Recall, in your mind’s eye, this sight: two white-shirted figures
exploring the October hills above Nagasaki. enjoying the freedom
to talk unencumbered. “Sometimes,” you said,
“I think nature has a way of playing Bach to itself.”
I was fasting that day when we went out into the farmlands
around Nagasaki, looking up referrals. After hours of walking,
we found ourselves on a ridge looking down on rice fields
and a tiny village
Sun-dappled redwood mist
bandtails flush, wrentits call through fiery green walls.
Chattering hikers returning from the still-inaudible sea
blindly pass a doe in the ferns.
Not all birds fly south
when leaves flame then
fall and nights turn
cold and daunting.
The mystery of flight times and of paths
that pierce the sky, scarring the flesh of heaven,
hangs just above and gently seeps into
this temple to the god of taking trips;
at my house we
don’t talk about Mom
and no one knows why
All things denote there is a God, even the carpet, and
the tile, and the television. Tele- meaning “at a distance” plus “vision.” And yet the
toddler places his palm directly on the screen, patting the prophet’s
What is like grating cheese? Hard
to begin with vehicle before tenor
but perhaps Samson’s falling locks.
After passing another
I’ve been implored a
so fine. I will. This
my pinkie toe to my
As a Latter-day Saint who studies sustainability, I have pondered the spiritual practices and beliefs that sustain our faith community over the long term. Prayer, scripture study, worship, and sacred ordinances are core practices that sustain the faith of members and, in turn, the Church itself. All of this happens within the framework of the restored gospel, which provides access to priesthood keys, a living prophet, and continuing revelation. Together, these have enabled remarkable growth since the Church was restored in 1830.